Читать книгу The Boy Scout Pathfinders; Or, Jack Danby's Best Adventure онлайн

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“‘It wuzn’t me as done it! It was my Rover, and he’s dead now. Dead, d’ye hear that?’ an’ then I jest walked away with my heart gone clean out o’ me. Ye see, my Rover wasn’t a water dog. He jest nat’ally hated the water, but the big, brave heart o’ him——” Here the old man’s voice grew husky, while Don, wistfully watchful, nestled close to him, looking up into his face with a great longing to comfort expressed in his beautiful eyes.

“Aye, lad,” and the voice was still unsteady, “aye, lad, ye have the look o’ my Rover!”

More than one of the boys dashed his hand across his eyes as he looked at the lonely old man with his arms around their Don’s neck.

In a moment Old Sam had pulled himself together, and called to the boys to “fall to,” upon which the boys brought forth their baskets and promptly carried out Old Sam’s suggestion. They avoided further mention of Rover, but their thoughts were often drawn back to the tragedy and in their hearts was a very tender spot for Rover’s master.

After dinner they all set out for the quarries. Sam, as he insisted upon the boys calling him, was as good as his word, showing them a much shorter road than the one they had intended to follow. In a short time they reached the quarry, and found they were in time to see some of the blasting done.